


Whisper

by IAintAJudas



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 19:06:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6127048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAintAJudas/pseuds/IAintAJudas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the dead of night, with only the dead listening, he talks to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whisper

**Author's Note:**

> It's been so long since I was last writing regularly, I'm sorry! I have a severe case of writer's block. Please send me prompts you'd like to see, I need my mojo back! Enjoy some Season 6 Daryl angst.

They'd made it through the storm, but who could tell if this was really just the eye of it? All of the dangerous and deadly possibilities still hung in the air like a repugnant smell, waiting to cause more chaos and destruction to the residents of Alexandria. Time could only tell if they'd actually escaped the frying pan, or just jumped blindly into the fire. Daryl took a deep drag on his cigarette as he sat quietly on the guard platform, he swung a leg over the edge as he shifted to get comfortable, running a hand through his straggly brown hair as he flicked the burning ash towards the ground. He stared wistfully at the dark, silent skies over the Alexandria walls, as he wondered how they'd made it through the recent events, he watched quietly as a couple of members of the community bustled around, sorting out last-minute rotas and plans for the following days work, working out the last remainders of the wall breach. Abraham was talking to a few of the residents down below, Daryl couldn't hear what he was saying, but there was lots of pointing and animated arm movements; so he reckoned whatever it was, it was probably important. Daryl sighed and flicked the cigarette butt over the wall, almost in the same movement he whipped another out of his vest pocket and sparked it, blowing the harsh smoke out into the crisp night air; watching it swirl and dance in the twilight. Daryl reached behind him and grabbed for his burlap bag, he held the cigarette uncomfortably between his lips as he yanked open the drawstring of the rucksack, wincing as smoke stung his eyes. He found what he was looking for at his fingertips, he clutched the cold metal in his palm and shoved the bag back behind him.

"It's been a while," he said softly, almost not trusting his own voice to speak. He glanced down at the rusty broken spoon, he turned it between his fingers absent-mindedly. Daryl glanced at the folk below and noticed they had dispersed to wherever they needed to go, probably bed considering how late it was; now was as good a time as any, he supposed.

"M'sorry, it's been too long since I last came to talk to 'ya, a lots been going down lately, y'know with all these undead son-bitches destroying everything.." he trailed off; squeezing the spoon in the palm of his large, callused hand. "You would'a loved it here, the closest damn thing any of us had to normal in a long time. It was a bit bumpy at first, but Rick's got it under control, if he doesn't get too distracted," Daryl made a face, half way between a smirk and a grimace as he thought about his rude awakening.

He had been in bed, trying to get a half-decent, fitful nights sleep when his eyes had suddenly snapped open to the sound of a thump. Daryl narrowed his eyes as he sat bolt upright; hand reaching for the knife on the bedside cabinet. Another thump. He quietly got up and crept into the hallway; squinting as his eyes tried to adjust to the dim light, he nudged the door to Judith's bedroom open with his shoulder, peering in at the sleeping baby. Daryl frowned. Not Judith going for a midnight escapade then. Then he heard it, a soft but unmistakable sound that he definitely shouldn't be hearing, he dragged his palm across his face and turned to resign back to his room.

"Daryl?" A groggy voice mumbled from behind him, he turned around to see a very sleepy Carl poking his head out of his room, "What are you doing?"

"Uh, nothin', I thought I heard a noise coming from Judy's room, I guess I was hearing things. Go back to sleep," Daryl said quietly, Carl muttered an inaudible response and nodded before softly shutting the door again, the older man sighed and followed suit.

It would take hours for Daryl to get comfy in bed even on a good night, so he was pretty irked that he'd been woken up. He grumbled as he punched his pillow a couple of times before resting his head down on it.

Thump

"Fucks sake," Daryl growled, smacking the wall with his hand in frustration. He swore he heard a hushed giggle from the other side.

That's how he ended up here, he definitely wasn't sleeping with that going on in the next room and he sure as he wasn't going to stick around in case Carl wakes up to see what all the noise coming from his dad's bedroom is about. Daryl rubbed his thumb across the embossed outline of the White House on the dull metal. "I wish you were here Beth, you.. we could have been happy here, y'know sometimes I think about our little place back there. I wonder what would'a happened if I hadn't been a stupid dumb ass.. fuckin' dog.. fuckin' Grady. No-one here ever sings as sweetly as you did.. You were too good for any of this, if only we'd gotten outta that hospital. I'm sorry Beth, I'll see you soon okay?" He whispered into the darkness, flicking his long-dead cigarette over the edge of the tower. Gathering up his belongings and wiping his wet face with the back of his hand, Daryl began his decent down the ladder, he didn't suppose he was gonna sleep any better, but it was better than another night of pleading to the silence.


End file.
